Voting said:
[X] [Heroism] You took that bat hit strangely well. Maybe you should check yourself for powers?
[X] [Gala] Indulge in good food
[X] [Socialize] The Mystery
[X] [Cat] Kay
[X] [Equipment] Two-Handed
[X] [Free Time] (Write-In) Do some introspection, try to figure out where these strange memories and feelings come from.
Hazel eyes met mine. Slowly, I reached out, stroking my thumb along the cat's forehead, listening to it purr in contentment.
After I had vacated the alley, I had swiftly left to meet with Dean elsewhere, only to be surprised when I realized that the cat had followed me the entire way. Clearly, he was a stubborn sort. Regardless, if he wished to be with me so dearly, then I would not deny him. I took him with me.
Needless to say, my parents had not been enthused to discover that I brought a stray home with me. He was friendly enough however, and won them over fairly quickly.
"Kay."
The cat perked his head up, acknowledging the name I had provided him with. A small smile crossed my lips.
"Hello Kay."
I poked a finger to Kay's nose and he turned his head, rubbing a cheek against my finger, before abruptly jumping down from my desk and padding out of the room, apparently finished with me for the moment. A disappointed sound escaped me, but I allowed him his escape unmolested.
Well, as long as he enjoyed his new environment, I hardly had cause to object.
Wandering over to my bed, I allowed myself to collapse into the mass of stuffed animals that I had piled upon its surface. I winced as one dug into my back, shifting to get more comfortable before finally settling in.
Hm.
Yes.
I could get used to this. I had many doubts about my previous self's taste from a year past (why was everything in the room
pink?), but I could agree with her in this. Surrounded on all sides by fluffy creatures – Truly, there was no greater sense of comfort than this.
Alas, it could not last forever.
Eventually, my phone's alarm sounded. Unfortunately, I had somewhere to be this evening. I had managed to forestall any social events after I had first woken up by claiming health issues, but now that I had been given a clean bill of health, my mother would have her due. It was time that I attended the latest of her galas.
Rousing myself, I sighed and moved to the closet to begin changing into my dress for the evening, only to glance in the mirror and see the dark, misshapen bruise that marred my shoulders. My first choice of dress had an open back. That would not be an option. I would have to find another.
I hovered briefly over a black dress before rejecting it. I knew from experience that black had a tendency to make me look washed out and pale. A white dress went quicker – beautiful, but too much for the size of the event. There would be a certain amount of extravagance, of course, but it was still a relatively minor event all told. There was such a thing as overdoing it. Pink –
No. A yellow dress – well, that wasn't so bad, but it perhaps had the opposite problem of the white. Too close to being a sundress, too casual for the gala.
Eventually, I found another blue dress, this one running all the way up to the neck. It was sleeveless and clung a bit too tight on the hips – I would need something new in the future – but it would do for the evening.
As I had once before, my fingers began tying my hair up. It was a style I had never once worn before I had been rendered comatose. I could not recall having seen it within any fashion magazine, nor had any of my friends ever used it. Yet, my hands steadily wove the braid as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if I had done this every day of my life.
I stopped and closed my eyes, hiding the stranger that stared at me from within the mirror. I allowed my mind to calm, the world falling away until only I was left.
Who was I?
I remembered growing up wealthy and wanting for naught.
I remembered growing up poor, an orphan adopted by my family.
I remembered going shopping at the Boardwalk almost daily.
I remembered when going to market was an event to mark the season, with festivals and games being held in celebration.
I remembered Christmas Eve service, traditional hymns jazzed up by our youth band.
I remembered the lonely tolling of bells and my hand wrapping around the hilt of a sword. Snow dusted the ground and my breath frosted in the air. Outside, the clamor of men rushing to and fro filled the town, but here, in this old churchyard, there was a strange calmness, as if the entire world held its breath.
"You should think this through before you grab that."
A vision was shown. A miserable fate. A miserable death. The failure of a kingdom.
"--No. Many people were smiling. I do not believe it will be a mistake."
The sword was pulled forth.
A sharp gasp escaped me, my throat clenching in sudden dread. Wetness stained my cheeks.
"A miracle has a price. In exchange, you will lose the thing most important to you."
What had that been? I lifted trembling fingers, tracing the outline of my face upon the mirror's glass. What were these memories of a life I had not lived? What had I gained from taking that sword? What had I lost?
Why did my heart feel as if it were tearing in two?
Gamemaster said:
Spiritual vs Worldly
Spiritual: 15 | 10 = Failure
Wordly: 12 | 10 = Failure
"The Lord is my light and my salvation," I whispered, the prayer and psalm forming upon my lips. "Whom shall I fear?"
A guilty part of myself reminded me that I had not returned to church since that singular service a few weeks ago. Yet, now I called upon God when I needed solace. Rank hypocrisy. Still, I called out all the same.
"Lord, please guide me in this hour. Please – tell me what is happening to me."
Silence answered me.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
"Dean! Your hair is a mess!"
"What? No, it's normal."
"Tsk–" Our mother combed at Dean's hair with her fingers, trying to straighten it out to how she liked it. "We're already running late too."
"I hear it's fashionable these days," our father joked.
"Don't you start–"
"It's fine, Mom. Really." Dean cut in.
I cleared my throat, watching how they both jumped as though they had been unaware of my presence up until that point. "Who is hosting tonight's event? I do not believe you told me earlier."
"The Christeners – It's just a minor fundraising thing, getting ready for the election in November, you know." My mother frowned at me and reached out to tug at my dress. "This dress won't do at all, Ellie. It's so plain – What were you thinking?"
My lips tightened, but my father rescued me before I could reply.
"Oh, stop hassling the kids, Helen. Like you said, we're running late. It's not like there's any time to change."
"Fine. I suppose you're right. Are you both ready to go?"
"About that," Dean said, "I was going to drive separately, go pick Vicky up. I invited her to come as my date tonight. Ellie, you're welcome to come with – I know Vicky's missed you."
"I–" The question was, did I want to see her? The last time I had – a memory flashed by, cacophonous noise ringing in my ears. No, I would have to see her eventually either way. I could manage a car ride at the very least. "Very well, Dean."
"Great!" My father chimed in. "We'll meet you there then. Drive safe, alright?"
"Of course," Dean smiled sunnily and we waved our parents off before walking our way down to his BMW. I slid my fingers across the smooth paint, and for a moment, I was seized by a strange impulse to take the wheel myself, certain that I could see us there. I pushed it aside and strapped myself into the passenger seat.
As we pulled out of the driveway, Dean glanced over at me. "Hey. Is everything alright?"
I blinked and looked back at him. "Yes? Why would it not be?"
"No reason. Just… I know we haven't gotten to spend as much time together as I'd like since you've woken up. I've had my work, and you were busy studying to get caught up. You know I'm here for you if you need me though, right?"
"I know," I said, a feeling of warmth spreading in my chest. "Thank you, Dean."
We spent the next few streets in companionable silence, broken only by the music on the radio. I turned to the window, watching the city go by. After a time, I asked, "Is it just Victoria joining us? Or will her family be coming as well?"
"She mentioned she might try to bring Amy along, get her out of the house."
"Amy never was the most social person."
"She wasn't, but…" Dean grimaced and scratched at her cheek. "She became something of a shut-in after the incident at the mall. Wouldn't leave her room except to go to school."
"Why?" I asked, furrowing my brow.
Dean looked over at me, meeting my gaze. "Guilt, I would assume."
If she had not spoken up. If she had not made the robber lash out against her. If she had simply allowed the injustice in front of her to continue for the sake of safety. If and if and if – I may not have been rendered comatose.
"Ridiculous." The thought had occurred to me more than once since I had awoken. I rejected it as I had every other time. "She is not at fault."
Dean glanced away. "Emotions like that aren't always logical, Ellie. Sometimes, even if someone knows intellectually that it's wrong, they'll still run away or hide or even lash out."
What could I say against that?
I mulled over the problem, still not coming to any sort of solution by the time we pulled into the cul-de-sac where the Dallon household sat. It was a two-story home with a well-kept lawn, next to a series of near identical homes. Nice, certainly, if nowhere near so large as ours.
Gamemaster said:
Awareness: 2 | 3 = Success
Dean circled the car to open my door for me, and I stepped out, only to pause. I felt eyes upon me. I looked up and caught sight of brown hair through one of the windows. Amy. Once she realized I had spotted her, she quickly withdrew, the curtains falling to hide her from me.
So. It was to be like that then.
I strode up to the front door and knocked, Dean hurrying in my wake. Carol Dallon answered the door.
Victoria's mother was a severe looking woman, with a sharp jaw, a narrow nose, and her hair cut into a short bob. Her perpetual frown, at least every time that I had met her, did nothing to soften that impression. She spared me a glance before glaring at Dean. "Hello Ellie. Dean."
"Hey," Dean said, giving a bright smile in response. It had to be intentional. There was no way he was actually oblivious to the way Mrs. Dallon was looking at him.
"I'll let Vicky know you're here," Mrs. Dallon said shortly. "You know the rules?"
"No hanky-panky and I promise I'll have her back by ten."
"Good. Ellie, glad to see you back on your feet."
"Thank you. I am glad to be back upon them."
Mrs. Dallon walked upstairs and Victoria came flying down naught a minute later. Literally flying; her feet did not touch the staircase. Unlike me, she had overdressed for the occasion. A beautiful white dress hugged her body, the shimmering fabric cascading down like waves. Her hair caught the light, her smile brightened the room.
"Ellie!" She smiled widened and she rushed in to wrap her arms around me. I stiffened at the sudden contact, before slowly relaxing, returning the hug. "I'd heard from Dean, but it's so good to see you again."
"Yes. I am glad you are doing well, Victoria."
"
Victoria? Since when do you call me by my full name like that?"
"Is it an issue?" I asked, frowning.
"No. Of course not. Just…" She looked at my brother. I couldn't see what gesture he made in return, but her hug tightened ever so slightly before letting go. "Well, come on, let's get going."
We walked back to the car and I moved into the rear seat, allowing Victoria the front to sit with Dean. As the car pulled out of the driveway, I shot one final look at the house and the face lurking in the upstairs window.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
Party said:
The Party is Medium sized and will last for three rounds.
Appeal: 2 | 14 = Success
>You are Popular. Gain 1 Geniality per round.
Round 1
>Popular: Geniality increases to 1.
Election Season
You find yourself involved in a conversation about the upcoming elections.
Politics: 12 | 1 (+1 Geniality) = Failure
>You fail to follow the conversation. No effect.
Round 2
>Popular: Geniality increases to 2.
Chatterbox
You find yourself caught in conversation with a lady who talks incessantly.
Etiquette: 5 | 7 (+2 Geniality) = Success
>You politely excuse yourself and slip away. Geniality increases to 3.
Round 3
>Popular: Geniality increases to 4.
Regale the Host
You are asked to entertain the host with a story.
Orate: 15 | 6 (+4 Geniality) = Failure
>The host is unimpressed. No effect
Indulgent: 18 | 10 = Failure
Constitution: 8 | 14 = Success
>You are sick to your stomach, but you do not throw up.
"Dean! Victoria! I'm glad you both could make it. And Ellie, of course. It's been awhile since I saw you at one of these."
"It has been some time since I was able to," I answered. "Thank you for having me, Rory."
"Not at all." Rory Christner, the mayor's son, was a tall, broad-shouldered young man. He grinned and reached out to pat Dean on the shoulder. "Come on in."
Thus, did the night begin. We went to Rory's father first, and I was made to endure a conversation about the upcoming elections and who they thought would win. I managed to understand that he was confident in his own chances, but that there was a good chance the incumbent sheriff would be losing his position. At some point, I felt my attention start to drift before I managed to excuse myself.
Unfortunately, a friend of my mother's ambushed me after that. It was all the usual platitudes. How happy she was to see me, how big I had gotten. I'm not sure she even realized I had been injured until recently. She asked how I was doing in school and if I was dating any boys.
I gave her a tight smile. "I am sorry. However, I really must use the restroom."
"Oh, alright. Do take care, dear."
"Thank you."
I managed to escape all of two steps before my mother came looking for me. "Ellie, there you are. I was just telling Rory here all about how well you were doing getting caught up for school. Tell him about how hard you've been studying."
I glanced at Rory, who mostly looked uncomfortable for me and as though he didn't want to be there. "I don't think there is much to tell. I did well enough for Arcadia's placement test. Excuse me, I really need to sit down."
Extricating myself from unwanted conversation once again, I finally managed to flee and sit down at a table, rubbing at the bridge of my nose. It was strange. I had enjoyed these parties in the past. Now they just felt tedious. Well, if I was to be trapped here, I could at least enjoy the food. I began stacking my plate with cheese and salami.
"Well, someone certainly has an appetite."
"It has been a long evening," I said blandly, not pausing in my consumption as I glanced at the unfamiliar voice. A young girl, perhaps about my age, sat across from me. She had tied her long, strawberry-blonde hair back with a ribbon in a way that seemed as if it were meant to draw attention to her piercing blue eyes. "I do not believe we have met."
"We haven't." She smiled and I tilted my head. There was a faint accent to her words, trained almost to no longer be there. "I'm Erin Archelot."
"Elaine Stansfield."
Erin giggled. "I know. A lot of people have been talking about your miraculous awakening, you know?"
"Is that why you are here then? To confirm the rumors?"
"Of course not," Erin said, shaking her head. "We're both going to be attending Arcadia in the fall. I was hoping we could be friends."
Gamemaster said:
Trusting vs Suspicious
Trusting: 9 | 10 = Success
Suspicious: 17 | 10 = Failure
"I do not see why not," I said, reaching for a piece of salami, only to find I had eaten the entire tray. I frowned and began on the lemon bars instead. "We will be in the same year together then?"
Erin clapped her hands together. "We will! And I'm glad to hear it. I was there last year too, but didn't really manage to connect with many people. Everyone seems intimidated for some reason."
"I cannot imagine why. You seem likeable enough."
"Well, who knows? My Mom was a bit famous way back when, but that was years ago."
I raised an eyebrow curiously. "Oh? What for?"
"I guess she was a famous singer back in the day?" Erin shrugged. "She's more on the production side of things nowadays though. She's here at the party, if you want to meet her."
"Perhaps another time," I said, taking a slice of cake. "Were you planning to follow in her footsteps then? Become a singer yourself?"
"I'm sure she would like me to, but no. It's a bit too much spotlight for me. I prefer to stay a bit more behind the scenes."
"Understandable. I am sure being gawked at like that must be unpleasant."
"Hmm, well, something like that, I suppose." She smiled pleasantly and took a cookie for herself.
"What is it that you do want to do with yourself, in that case?"
"I'm not entirely sure. Maybe I'll become a wizard, like that guy over in Chicago."
"Wizard?"
"You know, Myrddin?" Erin stared at me a moment and must have realized that I did not know who she was speaking about. "Wow, you must really not watch the news or anything. He's pretty famous. Not Triumvirate tier or anything, but still."
"I have never been particularly interested in parahuman culture," I demurred, though something about the name tickled at my mind. "I do not imagine that
wizardry is the easiest of vocations to enter."
"No, I suppose it isn't," Erin said with a faint smile. "I suppose I'll just have to keep thinking about it then."
I arched an eyebrow, but she simply stayed silent, nibbling on her cookie until the moment had passed.
Then I was simply left with awkward silence, not sure how to advance the conversation once more. It was almost a relief when Dean came over to inform me that he and Vicky were leaving.
"I suppose that is my call for the evening. It was a pleasure meeting you, Erin. Hopefully, I can do so again soon."
Erin smiled brightly at me. "Yeah, I hope so too. Maybe we can hang out sometime before school starts."
"I would like that," I said simply and returned her smile before turning away.
Gamemaster said:
Geniality: 4
>Gain 4 Glory.
The night had been long. Soon, the morning would come, and with it my plans for a new day. During my fight in the alley, I had taken our three grown men. I had taken a hit across the back with a bat and kept fighting. However I looked at it, that was not normal. Something was odd with me – not just my mind, but my body as well.
It was time I found out what it was.
Gamemaster said:
You heal naturally. Hit Points: 30/32
Moving sucks. The end.
I'm not really happy with the latter half of this chapter, but I was tired of hanging onto it and wanted to push it out, so here we go. The vote of Dallons vs Mystery was pretty close, so I wound up giving a bit of both. The investigate your powers bit is pushed back to next time, but will be included in more detail.
Not happy with how the Feast rules worked in converting to a quest format. I think I'll probably scrap them and run something a bit simpler for future occasions.
I have decided to rename
Renown to
Glory. This is what it originally was in Pendragon. I had changed it to better suit cape life, where fame is important, but I'm shifting that because of the next point – I have also decided to allow for the collection of
Glory in your private life. You won't earn as much as you would through combat, but this way you're not limited to only combat as a collection source.
It is June of 2010.
Choose someone to spend time with:
[ ] [Social] Dean Stansfield
[ ] [Social] Victoria Dallon
[ ] [Social] Amy Dallon
[ ] [Social] Chelsea and Morgan
[ ] [Social] Erin Archelot
[ ] [Social] (Write-In)
Choose an activity to participate in:
[ ] [Activity] Sports
>You could use the exercise.
[ ] [Activity] Charity
>You could do volunteer work.
[ ] [Activity] Summer Classes
>You may have gotten into Arcadia, but it wouldn't hurt to get caught up more.
[ ] [Activity] Modeling
>It could earn you some money on the side if you do well.
[ ] [Activity] Religion
>Visit churches to try and find a new one.
[ ] [Activity] (Write-In)
Choose a way to advance yourself as a hero.
[ ] [Heroism] Design a name and costume.
>You can't just be X forever.
[ ] [Heroism] Look into types of Parahumans.
>If you're going out doing hero things, you're bound to run into them at some point. Knowing the difference between a brute and a breaker will probably be good.
[ ] [Heroism] Study your first aid.
>You might need to treat injured people in the future.
[ ] [Heroism] Look for trouble.
>You're not a hero if you aren't actually going out and saving people, right?
[ ] [Heroism] (Write-In)